


Sampaguita

by Skylark



Series: Petra, daughter of Brigid [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Filipino Petra Macneary, First Meetings, Flowers, Language as a method of colonial control, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Tagalog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/pseuds/Skylark
Summary: "That's pretty," Claude says. "Is that from Brigid?"
Relationships: Petra Macneary/Claude von Riegan
Series: Petra, daughter of Brigid [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876327
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	Sampaguita

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Icie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/gifts), [petaldancing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petaldancing/gifts).



> Prompts: "Flowers from home" and "Let me show you"

"That's pretty," Claude says. "Is that from Brigid?"

Petra starts; she hadn't heard him come up from behind her. She starts to cover it with her hand, catches how keenly his eyes track the motion, and stops herself. The right corner of Claude's mouth twitches upward.

She'd been too focused on home, she realizes. Thinking of Brigid often kept her on the truest path, and it's rare that the memory fails her like this. She blinks, unable to hide her unease. 

Claude continues to watch her, his eyes narrowing slightly but not in the unkind way she's so used to. He seems to be waiting for her answer. She straightens, her braid slipping from her shoulder to fall in a heavy swing against her back, and considers her words. 

Speaking Fódlan Common always feels like picking her way through an unfamiliar forest blindfolded. It didn't help that she learned Adrestrian first; the Macneary household as a rule didn't speak Common within its walls, and Petra was rarely allowed outside them. She only really started speaking Common when she moved to the monastery, and it was still slow going. Still, what could she give except her best effort?

"This flower," she says, moving her hand away. "You have recognizing?"

"Only from illustrations," Claude says, leaning closer. He doesn't attempt to touch it, and something in Petra's throat loosens with relief at that. 

"In Common, it is—"

"Orchid," Claude finishes. "They're hard to grow, aren't they?"

Petra smiles at that. "Only outside of Brigid."

Claude laughs. "Touché." He sits down next to her. She turns, allowing him to see it more clearly without having to crane his neck. It's dried and faded, a far cry from its usual shape and brilliance. "Are they your favorite flower?"

"No," she admits. They were her grandmother's. Petra remembers them overflowing in her grandmother's courtyard, covering the trees and walls. She had over eighty varieties, and most of them needed barely any care; orchids were so rampant in Brigid that one had only to push an orchid plant into the fork of a willing tree and it would grow easily. She sees her grandmother's garden in her mind's eye, a riot of color, and it takes a moment before she can blink the memory away. "I am liking the flowers of Fódlan too, of course. The big sunflowers are most pleasing. But...my favorite flower is sampaguita." She doesn't know the word for it in Common or Adrestrian. For some reason she had never wanted to look it up.

But Claude nods knowingly. "Ah, jasmine. The smell in the evening..." His gaze goes far away for a moment. Petra blinks, shocked. 

"You speak Brigidian?" she says, a quick flow of her native tongue. It's soft, under her breath; everyone speaks Common here, and she isn't sure if other languages are even allowed at Garreg Mach.

"I am a student," Claude says, and his accent is so charmingly awkward that Petra has to cover her smile with a hand. Claude laughs and switches back to Common. "But I wouldn't mind learning from an expert if you're up for it."

"May I study with you in return? My speaking, it is...unpolished. I wish to master it."

"An even trade! My second favorite kind," Claude says. "Still...looking at flowers? I wouldn't have expected it of you."

Petra frowns. "It is not acceptable?"

"Oh, it's plenty acceptable," Claude says. "It's ladylike, even. It just doesn't fit with the wild image everyone else seems to paint of you, you know? A sword at your hip, wild game skins on the floor of your room..." Petra frowns, listening to him speak. She's pulling back when he continues: "But you've always got your nose in a book. And when you think no one can see you, you look at flowers. You still pray, too, even if you never set foot in the Cathedral of your own free will. You're not who you seem to be, are you?" 

Petra looks at him, not speaking, her gaze careful. 

Claude laughs. "I can respect that," he says. He sticks out a hand. "I like you, Petra. Let's be friends."

"Friends," she echoes, reaching for his hand. _This is one to watch,_ she tells herself, and her smile widens. "I am sincerely wanting to be friends with you, Claude von Riegan. Let us be working hard together in the future."

"It's a deal," he says, and his hand on hers is warm and confident.

**Author's Note:**

> (Follow me @petrarights on twitter if you want to see me screaming about FE3H in real time)


End file.
